"Promises, Promises"
Jeremiah 31:7-14 & Psalm 147:12-19 ~ Rev. Gabrielle Suedfeld ~ Northwood United Church
Well, here we are, on the second day of a brand new year, and I’ll bet some of you are already tired of it. Tired of shovelling snow, of worrying about covid, of having to change travel plans, of trying to find child care next week because classes won’t be starting tomorrow for most children. I’m also tired of running out to change the hummingbird feeder every ½ hour because the sugar solution freezes. And along comes this message from Jeremiah and the echoes in the psalm: Sing aloud with gladness. Well, here we are on the eighth day of Christmas – have the maids come a-milking yet? Are there cows in your front yard? Just think, you have dancing ladies, leaping lords, drummers and pipers to look forward to, before you can take down your decorations! Here we are – the Holy Child has been born, into our sacred history, into our hearts, into all our hopes for the future. Sing aloud with gladness. Because today, we hear of God’s renewed promise, and we gather strength. Just think about what we are offered in this banquet of delights!
When I looked at the Scripture passages a few weeks ago, I was astounded. It felt like they were written for us today! Personally, by the prophet. And this was before the snow started. In the psalm we hear of snow, and frost and hail; and how God’s word will melt them. The winds will blow, and then the waters will flow. And the hope of spring will come, and the roads will be clear. And the remnant of the people will gather and return. And we will go back to work, to school, to family gatherings, to visits with seniors and those who live alone. God will bring us all back together, and care for us like a shepherd. So sing aloud and be radiant over the goodness of the Lord.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ve heard this before. Promises, promises! And we’re right back where we started, not sure we want to buy that story again. Well, pull up your heavy socks, friends, because God keeps promises. The thing is, God may want a little help – from us. We have to be partners with God to make this work. I’m not sure exactly when Jeremiah wrote this particular part of the book, but the people were in a crisis situation. They were in exile in Babylon, they had lost their city of Jerusalem, they may have been at a really low point in history. And right in the middle of this long story of the exile, are three chapters called the book of consolation. In the middle of all the sorrow and confusion and loss, the prophet offers a positive outlook, a future of wonderful expectation. The people had seen their city and their lives destroyed, their nation was no more, and all along, they had expected God to take care of everything. After all, they were the chosen people. But Jeremiah wasn’t a fortune teller with a crystal ball, he was a prophet, a truth teller. This is an oracle, a message of hope and promise. And with it comes the responsibility of the people to be part of the action, not just receivers of grace, but active participants in the gifts of God. Faithfulness on both sides. Straight paths ahead, good things to come.
People had taken their life situation for granted. Before the exile, the king, his family, the palace politicians, the priests, were the leaders. The wealthy and the powerful were up front and responsible for the needs of the nation. After the exile, people had to work it out for themselves, and it was difficult and scary. No more temple to worship in, so they began to meet in homes, to look at the word of God and live it. They had to care for the vulnerable, the widows, the orphans, the ones with physical challenges, the neglected ones of society. It was a whole new way of being the people of God, the chosen ones. It was not the end of a people. God had not abandoned them. God offered the promise of a new kind of society. And in this reading, Jeremiah calls them to rejoice in this new opportunity, a fresh start for everyone, not just a few.
This is a time of restoration, of inclusivity, of increased sensitivity to the needs of those who have been given little respect, a time of empowerment for the forgotten and the marginalized. They’re all there, in this passage, as God promises to bring everyone together again. A diminished community is given the chance to flourish. But they had to work with God on this. And so do we, now, today, in our new way of being God’s people. An interesting article in the past week resonated with me as I thought about how we struggle to find meaning and purpose for the coming year. At this point last year, we thought we would be finished with all this Covid stuff real soon, but as the months went on, we realized that there would be no quick fix. And then came the forest fires, the record breaking temperatures, and then the floods in the Fraser Valley, and now the too - much – of - a - good - thing snow. It looks so pretty on the mountains, and people who ski are happy and we all sing about a white Christmas, but enough is enough.
So, what have we learned in the past year that will prepare us for the future that holds so much promise? What things do we have to give up, and what things to we want to keep from the past? What expectations have to be modified? How comfortable are we with change? How can we work in partnership with God to bring about all those promises? We have a lot to look forward to, and its mostly good. Some of us learned to live more simply, to try new recipes, to realize that if something wasn’t available in the store, we could find another food to buy. Some of us learned that wearing makeup wasn’t necessary with a face mask, or that informal clothing might be more comfortable and acceptable in the current situation. Maybe it made us appreciate how much we do have, in contrast to people in so many other countries, for whom shortages and long waiting lines are just a fact of life. Maybe we learned to treasure little things, the voice of a friend on the telephone, quieter social events, taking up crafts we’d forgotten about, staying at home and singing out of tune while watching a worship service - although we will be happy to get together again, (but you really can’t come to church in your robe and slippers.)
It seems to me that people have been friendlier, more patient, learned to chat while waiting in line. I know I have changed. There will always be some who are grouchy, but I’ve realized that they don’t bother me as much anymore. I think children learned to look forward to school. And we’ve all realized how much care and attention teachers give. Maybe some of us are more appreciative of how important all levels of medical care are to our health. I found that sometimes, a phone appointment with the doctor is easier, when it’s just test results or a quick question. Saves time, and maybe there’s a way to incorporate this into family medicine. We learned to identify people in our community who are medical staff, and to pray for them and give them special recognition. Church services online! Never! That’s what most of us thought. But developing, installing and struggling with new technology and giving people options may have increased our participation in the message. I know that some people have “come back to church” through offerings on U-Tube, and maybe we will see some of them in person as things level off and we go back to consistent church services. My sister, who isn’t a churchgoer, sent me an email last week saying that she had watched one of my services all the way from Boston! And when you or the children are under the weather, you can still be part of the gathering. Whether we realized it or not, we have changed. And through it all, God has been our constant companion.
This past week, two people died, who have had an impact on society for very different reasons. Last Sunday, people the world over were saddened to learn that Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa, had died at the age of 90. He was a prophetic figure in the style of Jeremiah. He got right in the face of several South African presidents, maybe at risk of his life, to be a truth teller, to champion the poor and the oppressed, to oppose apartheid, to criticize economic corruption, to support LGBTQ2 rights, all without fear but with a great faith. He was adamant that the church had to be involved in the responsibility to bring equality and justice to his country. Remaining neutral was not an option for him. He celebrated the differences that make our human condition so rich, and preached forgiveness for those who transgressed. He was given the Nobel Peace prise in 1984. I think one of the quotes that has touched me the most is about peace and justice: “there is no peace because there is no justice…God’s shalom - peace, involves inevitably righteousness, justice, wholeness, fullness of life, participation in decision making, goodness, laughter, joy, compassion, sharing and reconciliation…when there is injustice, invariably, peace becomes a casualty.”
But often what I appreciate about his ministry was that he had a twinkle in his eye, and an infectious laugh. He truly understood how to enjoy his humanness as well as his spiritual gifts. Which brings me to the second person, Betty White. How can we consider mentioning these two in the same reflection? Because she made people laugh, and brought joy into our lives. She was just short of her hundredth birthday, and at her 90th Hollywood birthday party, someone asked her “how did you get to be 90?” She looked at them with that big eyed, innocent face and said “Well, I don’t know. I just woke up one morning and there it was!” In times of crisis, we need to be reminded of our responsibility but also of the gift of joy. God gives us both and expects us to use them well. I know it’s a custom to make “New Year’s resolutions”. Have you made any? Do you always keep them? Maybe this year, we need to resolve to renew our relationship with God. Because every Christmas, God renews a relationship with us, through the birth of Jesus. It’s called the incarnation, the moment when God becomes human, to walk with us again. In spite of our failings, our neglect of the holy presence, our self centredness, our lack of compassion for the vulnerable, God just hangs in there, loving, forgiving, over and over again.
Promises, promises. Of life renewed, of another chance, of unimagined possibilities of grace. They are all there, waiting for us to take up the challenge, the joy, the unknown and the not yet. Let’s work together, with one another, with our families, our community and our faith to help God to bring in the prophetic vision so wonderfully expressed in today’s readings – to find strength and blessings in all our generations, to make peace within our borders, to sing with gladness so that life becomes a watered garden, and all the world finds joy in the riches of God’s promise.